


I might even be a rock star

by YourPalYourBuddy



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Crack Treated Seriously, Hannah Montana References, M/M, One Night Stands, Tumblr Prompt, and dex is prelaw, sort of like. dex is a popstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23956216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourPalYourBuddy/pseuds/YourPalYourBuddy
Summary: He never thought it would get this far. At first it was a few canceled shows after he enrolled at Samwell; his managers didn’t think a pop star needed to get an education, it was bad enough he was playing hockey competitively in high school — what would happen, Jessy liked to tell him, if he got a concussion? What if he lost a tooth and the jaw damage fucked up the way he sang? Didn’t he think of anyone aside from himself?Then Jessy canceled his tour dates over semester break. And then his whole summer lineup. And then the Super Bowl Half Time Show.And that was before he found out the guy he hooked up with was playing on his fucking line.__________________________NurseyDex AU where Dex is a secret popstar. Dex's POV :) Based off my own prompt & subsequent convo w/ shitty-check-please-aus & omgdexnursey: "Hannah Montana AU. Holster and/or Dex is a secret pop star. he’s going thru a licensing lawsuit w his old managers & he spends his time in court instead of on the stage :("
Relationships: Chris "Chowder" Chow & Derek "Nursey" Nurse & William "Dex" Poindexter, Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter
Comments: 79
Kudos: 275





	I might even be a rock star

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunshineforthesoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshineforthesoul/gifts), [pertainstothesea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pertainstothesea/gifts).



> 2 things  
> 1: I don't understand how The Law works. I am not a lawyer. Pls indulge me  
> 2: [ here's the link to the prompt & subsequent thread :)](https://ivecarvedawoodenheart.tumblr.com/post/616933103011840000/hannah-montana-au-holster-andor-dex-is-a-secret)

________________________

Being Blaine Maine is a nightmare, okay. It’s the long travel days. It’s the way his touring costume department hasn’t quite figured out the balance between _sparkly_ and _itchy nightmare._ It’s how hot it is under the studio lights, and how sore his voice is after a full show, and how many makeup remover wipes he goes through to get his foundation off. It’s how itchy his wig is. It’s how fast his costume changes are. It’s the subtle fact that he had to change his name when One Direction got big; there’s only room for one Zayn in the music industry apparently, and his managers didn’t think it should be him.

It’s a nightmare. He misses it. 

Dex makes a note on his legal pad and asks his professor a clarifying question about the legal rights musicians have to their music. 

It’s the fact that, finally, William J. Poindexter is taking his old managers and record label to court.

____________

He never thought it would get this far. At first it was a few canceled shows after he enrolled at Samwell; his managers didn’t think a pop star needed to get an education, it was bad enough he was playing hockey competitively in high school — what would happen, Jessy liked to tell him, if he got a concussion? What if he lost a tooth and the jaw damage fucked up the way he sang? Didn’t he think of _anyone_ aside from himself?

“Of course I do,” he’d said. He didn’t say _that’s why I’m doing this in the first place._

Jessy had glared at him. “Then you’re not playing D1 competitive hockey.”

“Of course I am,” he’d replied. “Look. Blaine Maine has the money for Samwell. Will Poindexter doesn’t, right? Not without help. I need hockey to get into Samwell.” 

He didn’t say _don’t you ever think about what’s best for me?_ Even then he sorta already knew the answer to that.

The summer before he started Samwell was the last of the good times. All his shows were sold out. The fiber blend on his costumes were softer than a dream. The crowds sang along to all his songs, and after his last performance, he hooked up with the hottest guy he’d ever laid eyes on. It could’ve been, should’ve been the start of something. The next morning the guy had left both a hickey and a napkin with his number on Dex’s chest. It had said, _call me sometime._

Then Jessy canceled his tour dates over semester break. And then his whole summer lineup. And then the Super Bowl Half Time Show.

“Why?” he’d said over the phone. His suitemate had glanced at him crying and had turned away.

“Because,” Jessy had said, “you signed a contract. You’re not upholding your end of the bargain. My company doesn’t have to uphold ours. Get your shit together, Blaine. If you were smart you’d drop out.”

____________

  
  


And that was _before_ he found out the guy he hooked up with was playing on his fucking line.

____________

“Earth to Poindexter,” Nursey says robotically. “Do you copy?”

“What do you want,” Dex says. Chowder kicks him under the table. Dex still doesn’t look up from his books. 

Nursey says, “We’re talking about dinner,” and Dex points at his notes. “Still on the prelaw grind, then?”

“It’s been two years, Nurse,” Dex says, grabbing a highlighter. “Not really planning on changing my major, I had it declared since before I got here.”

“Stranger things have happened.”

Doesn’t Dex know it. He has a death grip on his notes and focuses on relaxing his hand so he doesn’t think about Nursey kissing him.

He thought he was going to die when Nursey stepped into the locker room their first practice. With everything that had happened with his label plus moving into his dorm plus getting back into shape by dodging paparazzi and — Dex had forgotten to text him. He’d thought Nursey was gonna tear into him. He had braced himself.

“Huh,” Nursey had said. He’d looked Dex up and down. “You look like a guy I made out with this one time.”

 _Made out with_ was putting it lightly, but Dex had been relieved Nursey wasn’t the type to kiss and tell.

It’s a herculean task to refocus on the present when Dex knows how Nursey kisses, when he knows how slight the odds are of kissing him again, especially when they’ve been dicks to each other for two and a half seasons. Especially when he has Blaine Maine’s blond wig in his closet and a half million lawsuit ongoing.

He looks back at his book while Chowder says, “So?”

“So what,” Dex says.

“Are you coming? Annie’s? They’re having a themed Blaine Maine night.”

“What’s your thing with him,” Dex says, exasperated.

“What do you mean what’s my thing—”

Chowder says, “You do talk about him a lot sometimes. Not all the time, and his music is great, it is? But like. It’s bordering how much Bits talks about, like, Beyoncé.”

Nursey doesn’t blush, but he does glance at his hands the way he does when he’s sort of embarrassed. Dex is waiting for him to just say it, heart in his throat, when Nursey says, “I just think he’s talented.”

“He hasn’t released a track in like, two years,” Chowder says. “Does anyone know where he even is? Like. His Insta is just posts with generic backgrounds now.”

“Didn’t know you liked him that much,” Dex mutters, somehow out of breath. He flips the page.

“He’s also really, really hot, C,” Nursey says emphatically. He rubs the back of his neck. “Anyway. Dex, you coming?”

Dex catches his breath. “I can’t,” he says. “I gotta study.”

Nursey waves his hand over Dex’s book and Dex looks at him, annoyed, and his annoyance only seems to make Nursey more amused. Dex hates him a little. 

“You can take a break sometimes,” Nursey says. Their frog year this probably would’ve come out with an edge, but his tone is mild.

“I can’t,” Dex repeats. “This is … this is really important.”

Nursey starts to say something but Chowder touches his arm. “We get it,” he says. There’s a line between his eyebrows. “Just — eat something, okay? Let us know if you get hungry and want us to grab you something. It’s Nursey’s treat.”

“Yeah.” Nursey pauses. “Wait. What?”

“Well, if he’s buying,” Dex says, aiming for the tone of someone who definitely doesn’t secretly have close to thirty million dollars.

“Hold on—”

“C’mon, Nurse.”

Dex smiles slightly. He texts them his order five minutes later, when the words on the page haven’t stopped spinning. Objectively he knows he doesn’t have to put himself through this; he has a good legal team. He has new managers that he trusts. 

There’s still a nagging thought in the back of his head that says _you can’t trust anyone but yourself._ And isn’t that the heart of it all? Isn’t that why no one but his parents and siblings and Jessy know he, Dex, is Blaine Maine? That voice has been there for almost five years. He should’ve listened to it earlier.

He hadn’t known better then. Now he does. 

He rubs his eyes and takes a deep breath before rereading the same paragraph three times, doing his best to pick out he key pieces of information. Okay. He takes another deep breath. Okay, he can do this.

Dex fills up four whole pages of notes before Nursey and Chowder come back. They shake him awake before talking about something inane and distracting, but it’s a good distraction. He lets himself get lost in their conversation.

____________

“…truly one of a few novel, recent cases about exploitation in the music industry,” Professor Kinastra says. She crosses her arms. “Can anyone tell me why?”

“Because of the age of the performer,” Dex says, talking around a lump in his throat. “And the unusual structure of the contract, as well as the innumerable ways the defendants have violated it.”

“Very good.” Kinastra pushes up her glasses. “Blaine Maine started in the industry at age ten and began a classic child performer arc: dream of making it big, sign the first contract you receive. Of course, music producers often take advantage of child stars in this manner.”

“What should he have done?” Dex asks. He clears his throat, very aware of how warm his ears are. “I mean, how do you avoid that trap in the entertainment business?”

Kinastra considers him. “Well, having a trusted legal expert review contracts is always recommended. Having a team of two or three is excellent. You want to look out for language that’s unclear or clearly twists the terms to favor the producer, which is difficult to avoid, especially when most producers sign artists who are just starting out.”

Kinastra continues, and Dex does his best to take down notes like they’re not talking about him. He’d known this was coming up all semester; how could it not? When he first announced his lawsuit, the music publications went wild. No one had heard from him in almost four months after his tours were inexplicably canceled. Throw in all the ingredients Kinastra’s talking about — youth, the years he’s been with his record, the scandal attached to a lawsuit of this magnitude — and yeah, he’s been expecting this.

It doesn’t make it less awkward to hear classmates pick apart his motives, his music skills, his apparent disappearance. 

He leaves class with his face burning so bright he imagines it’s visible in space. 

____________

Ransom and Holster plan a kegster after their first home game is a runaway win. Dex takes his usual post by the bottom of the stairs, doing his best to catch people before they go upstairs and throw up in Lardo’s room again — seriously, Dex doesn’t know what it is about her room, but it’s a barf magnet. Shitty must’ve fucked up some of the Haus vibes at some point, cursing the Haus to forever wreak vengeance upon the occupant of that room until it’s appeased.

“You’re so sloshed,” Nursey says in delight, coming out of nowhere, and Dex realizes he said that whole thing out loud.

He takes a sip of tub juice. “You heard that.”

“Chyeah, babe.” 

There is something ridiculous about Nursey’s face when he says _babe._ Dex can’t tell how much of him means to have said it, now that his eyes are wide and his mouth is tight. 

“Think you’re sloshed too,” Dex says after a minute. He takes Nursey’s cup and downs it before Nursey can protest. Dex winces. “What the _fuck_ was that.”

“Rum,” Nursey says. He drapes his arm over Dex’s shoulders and rubs his knuckles on Dex’s cheek. “You’re fun. You’re gonna be hammered.”

There’s a beat thumping in Dex’s head that doesn’t belong to the music. “Maybe I am already.”

Nursey lights up. “Oh shit,” he says. Dex frowns; he sounds too happy to hear that. “Are you gonna karaoke then?”

“What?”

Nursey steers them into the middle of the room and this’ll teach Dex not to drink whatever the fuck is in Nursey’s cup without asking, all of this is karma, all of it — from Ransom shoving the microphone into Dex’s hand to Holster and Nursey whispering to a Hannah Montana song blasting over the speakers.

“No,” Dex says helplessly, but the lyrics are already bouncing across the screen.

It’s an easy one. He hasn’t sung it before, and he’s drunk, and rum always makes his throat a little raspy. There’s no chance of being discovered as Blaine Maine tonight. Hannah/Miley sings in a different register than he does, so it’s fine.

Which means he can make it totally, dreadfully bad. 

Dex hams up how out of his range the song is, letting his voice go thready and reedy as it gets higher until it cuts out completely. He warbles his voice on purpose and holds the mic too close. Feedback comes out shrill and unpleasant until Ransom takes the mic back.

“Alright, you proved your point,” he says, wincing. 

Dex nods casually. The crowd parts as he makes his way back to Nursey.

“Wow,” Nursey says. 

“I can’t sing,” Dex says in a rush. His eye twitches the way it always does when he lies, but for once Nursey is too gone to call him on it.

“I won’t ask again.”

They finish up the kegster listening to Ransom and Holster duet “Total Eclipse of the Heart” while the crowd stumbles out. Tango and some of the frogs are on cleanup duty, so Dex and Nursey lean on each other as they navigate the steps. He does his best not to smell Nursey’s cologne or the way his rum stuck to his clothes. It doesn’t work.

____________

Chowder walks in on him wearing Blaine Maine’s wig.

Honestly? Someone should’ve found out earlier. Dex has signed merch in his room. He has the wig on a stand in his closet. He doesn’t dress like a popstar, but he does know a lot more about high quality cloths and makeup brands than he should. He’s been known to mumble lyrics he’s working on during the pregame party in the locker room. 

He and Nursey share a room. He and Nursey have _hooked up._ Nursey definitely, definitely should’ve figured it out.

There’s a frozen moment where Dex stares up from the floor and Chowder stares down from the hallway and then Chowder steps into the room, closing the door behind him. Dex’s heart does something strange that would be a really cool beat in a song if it wasn’t happening in his chest. It settles as Chowder leans against Nursey’s desk, staring.

“So,” Chowder says, slow. “Nice wig.”

Dex’s throat is dry. “Thanks.” 

Chowder doesn’t say anything. Dex exhales. 

“You can say it,” he says. “If you want. Whatever it is you’re thinking.”

Chowder says, “You know what I’m thinking,” and tilts his head. “Does it itch? Do you use a lot of makeup so they don’t see your freckles? You have to, right, I’ve never seen a picture of you with freckles — I mean, Blaine. A picture of Blaine with freckles.” He frowns. “It feels weird to call you Blaine.”

“It’s better than Wayne though, right?” Dex says. He slowly takes the wig off, staring at it. “When Zayn Malik got big, my managers were pushing for Wayne.”

Chowder nods and sits across from him on the floor. “Wayne Maine sounds like a realtor. Or a pawnshop. Or like—”

“A really creepy pimp?” Dex says. Chowder nods again, smiling a little. It does a lot to ease the knot in Dex’s stomach, seeing that smile. “That’s what I told them.”

“You were right,” Chowder says. He sucks in his bottom lip. “Why didn’t you — I guess that’s sort of a dumb question. You had to protect yourself. That’s why you’re prelaw too, right? So this doesn’t happen again?”

Dex braids a small section of the wig. When he speaks, his voice comes out quiet. “Are you mad?”

“No,” Chowder says. “I get it.” He pauses. “Although it would’ve been _nice,_ you know, to know that it was you when I was looking for Caitlin’s birthday present, she fucking loves you.”

Dex laughs a little. “I can sign something for her, if you want?”

“That’d be ‘swawesome.” Chowder pauses again, and this one feels heavier than the last one. Dex focuses on his breathing. “So, ah. At Annie’s, when Nursey and I went together that one time two or three weeks ago?”

Dread bodyslams him like he ran into a truck. “No.”

“Yeah,” Chowder says apologetically. “Does he not know that was you?”

“He doesn’t.” Dex sighs. “I meant to call or text him after but Jessy — manager — just started his campaign for biggest douche in the world. Chowder you can’t tell him, okay? Please don’t tell him.”

Chowder says, “I won’t,” and relief floods through Dex’s body. Then Chowder raises his eyebrows. “Do you, like. Want to do that again?”

Dex throws the wig at him and Chowder puts it on, laughing, and Dex changes the subject almost twenty timed before Chowder drops it. It lingers in the room long after Dex puts the wig away, long after Nursey comes back and faceplants on Dex’s bed and complains about being tired, long, long after the faintest trace of Nursey’s laundry detergent and deodorant ebbs away.

____________

“Hey,” Nursey says around midterms. Dex looks up from his lawbook. “No. Stop. I know you gotta study, I know you need to save the world, I get it, okay, but. Dex. It’s a gorgeous fall day out, and you’re in the kitchen.”

“Where else should I be?” Dex says, and makes another note.

“Annie’s,” Nursey says. He sounds hesitant for a reason Dex doesn’t understand. “Or the Pond, or the reading room even. Just. Come on, okay?”

Dex sets down his highlighter. “Why.”

“Because I can’t chirp you for your freckles when they’re, like, barely there.” Dex narrows his eyes, and Nursey sighs. “I’m worried about you.”

This is so not what he was expecting him to say. “What?”

Nursey pulls on one of his stupidly perfect curls. “You seem, like, hella stressed out,” Nursey says. “You keep talking in your sleep about legal statutes and Blaine Maine.”

“What am I saying about them,” Dex says. He mentally congratulates himself on keeping his voice level.

Nursey shrugs and says, “I don’t know, just something about, like, his evil manager.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. And I’m not saying it’s not kinda hot that you’re so into social justice? But. Dex. You gotta take a break sometime.”

It takes a ridiculously long time for Dex to process that sentence. He keeps hearing _it’s kinda hot_ bouncing off every surface in this room.

“You get a boner for the legal system?” he says, once his brain starts working.

“Just when it’s actually being used by the people, for the people,” Nursey says. “Especially if those people are hot.”

Dex stares at him. “You think I’m hot?”

Nursey looks like he’s been hit by a frying pan. “I mean. Yes?”

“Oh.” 

Someone, somewhere, is going to have to classify a new word for red to describe whatever the fuck is going on with his neck. Dex doesn’t need a mirror to know he’s brighter than Rudolph’s nose. He doesn’t know where to look; at his notes? At the beautiful guy who just told him he’s hot? None of these options are good.

Nursey clears his throat. “Yeah. So. Take a break, Poindexter. Or bring your books, but let’s go to the Pond or something.”

“Yeah,” Dex says. He feels unsteady, like he’s walking on ice. The surprise on Nursey’s face makes it worth it. “Okay. Let’s go.”

____________

It’s simultaneously a relief and an even bigger stress knowing that Chowder knows. On the one hand, he has someone to talk to about his legal problems; on the other, for a week or two after he found out, Chowder couldn’t keep a straight face whenever Dex and Nursey were around each other. It got so bad Hall and Murray commented about it during practice. It got so bad Lardo added a fine for all three of them. It got so bad Jack sent a text saying _hope you’re all keeping your noses to the grindstone._ Technically, Dex supposes, it could’ve been about anything, but still.

“Nose to the grindstone, what the fuck,” Holster mutters in the locker room before practice. “Who is he, a grandpa?”

The season continues with a handful of losses and a boatload of wins to the point that Ransom and Holster decide to celly with a longer pregame playlist than usual, starting it the second they get to the rink so the whole place fills up with, like, 2012 chart toppers. 

Some of them are good. Dex will admit that. 

Some of them are his, though, and it makes him want to die.

“God I miss Blaine Maine,” Ransom says after one of his early songs dies out. “Dude knew how to throw a metaphor.”

“So good,” Nursey says, grinning. “I was at his last concert. Kinda electric.”

“Oh, did you?” Dex says. “Only heard that a million times.”

Nursey throws a roll of tape at him. It bounces off his chest. “Shut up, Dexy-poo.”

“Make me.”

It comes out before he catches it. Nursey seems to falter, some growing realization shimmering in his eyes, but Murray pokes his head in to tell them warmups is in five minutes. 

Dex keeps taping his socks. Chowder taps his shinpads with his stick, and when Dex looks up at him, Chowder smiles. It’s a _you got this_ kind of smile. Supportive, of both past and present Dex. It’s a small thing, a simple thing; it’s gone by the time Dex finishes his left leg because Chowder and Bitty are chirping Nursey, but it’s enough. 

____________

And then it isn’t.

Dex reads the email and clicks on the article, tears through it twice and four times, and six, and then calls his parents. Voicemail. He texts Chowder, and Chowder’s at his door in a second. 

“Hey,” Chowder says, “what’s — what happened?”

Dex just hands him his phone and starts crying.

____________

What happened is this:

_EXCLUSIVE: BLAINE MAINE INSIDER TELLS ALL — DRUGS! GIRLS! PARTIES!_

_YOU’LL HAVE TO READ IT TO BELIEVE IT: NEW SOURCE REVEALS POPSTAR’S WILD SIDE_

_YOU DON’T WANT TO MISS THIS — BLAINE MAINE TEARING IT UP IN VEGAS WHILE LAWSUIT CONTINUES. BLOWING HIS MONEY AWAY?_

_BLAINE MAINE’S FAMED MANE: HOW THE POPSTAR KEEPS HIS HAIR LOOKING SHINY AS EVER IN—_

“That last one’s old,” Dex croaks. “And honestly, they should know it’s a wig? But the other three were printed this afternoon. I don’t — get it, why would — I’ve been _here_ this whole time. That’s not me in the pictures.”

“They’re setting you up,” Chowder says, “so you look unreliable? Is that a thing people do?”

“Yeah, C.” Dex stares at a blurry picture of a blond guy showering champagne over a group of people dancing. “They’re attacking my integrity.”

“Well, fuck,” Chowder says. Dex is so surprised he almost drops his phone. “What? I can’t say fuck?”

“I mean you can, but legally?” Chowder rolls his eyes, and Dex rubs his temples. “I don’t know what to _do.”_

Chowder taps a staccato beat on the floor. “Solution? Or distraction?”

Dexs looks up hopefully. “Distraction.”

____________

The Haus is alive tonight.

People are spilling in and out onto the porch, in the backyard, everywhere, bringing with them alcohol and laughter and the faint, tangible worry about being arrested. Music bumps throughout every inch of the place, filling it up and making the walls seem to expand to contain it all. Dex drinks deep from his SOLO cup and imagines he’s expanding outward too.

This isn’t the best way to do this, and he knows it. He pushes through the crowd anyway, looking for— 

There.

Nursey, white tanktop tight to his chest. Nursey, cutoffs making his legs deadly in the party lights. Nursey, looking back at Dex.

Something in his chest does a complicated thing. 

“Hi,” Dex says, and this isn’t the best way to do it either, but Nursey smiles the kind of smile that says _been looking for you._ It’s deadly too. The lights catch his lips so, so well.

“Hey,” Nursey says. “Where’ve you been today? I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

Dex says, “We live together,” because he knows Nursey’s going to press their shoulders together, and he does. It’s anchoring. 

“I’ve been thinking about that game,” Nursey says in a low voice. “We play pretty well together.”

Dex swallows. “When you can stay on your feet, anyway.”

Nursey smiles the kind of smile that says _shut up and kiss me already._ Dex isn’t sure if he’s imagining it. “What can I say,” Nursey says. “You make me swoon.”

“Is that the only thing I do to you?”

“Hm,” Nursey says, and it reverberates throughout Dex’s body like a long note on the saxophone. Deep and honey smooth. “Sometimes, you piss me off. So bad.”

This feels dangerous. Nursey’s looking at him with something curious and teasing in his eyes, and they’ve done this before. Dex needs a distraction — deserves a distraction. Right? He takes a step closer to Nursey. 

Would it really be that bad, if they did this again?

“Sometimes you piss me off too.” Dex steps closer. He sees it when Nursey’s breath catches. “Sometimes, I really want you to shut up.”

“Then make me,” Nursey whispers.

Dex kisses him. Dex kisses him through the party as they stumble upstairs, trying not to fall. He doesn’t even pretend not to be overwhelmed by whatever cologne Nursey dabbed under his jaw. He kisses him down the hallway to their room and he kisses him as they crash onto his bed and he kisses him until Nursey takes his shirt off.

____________

It’s this:

Nursey pulling him closer and deeper, hands holding so tight Dex thinks he’ll have fingernail marks on his ass for ages.

It’s this: 

Dex teasing him, blowing him until Nursey lets go, head back and knees slumped.

It’s this:

Nursey tracing his nose, connecting the dots of his freckles.

It’s this:

Nursey says, “So we’ve done that before. Right?”

____________

It’s like an ice cold bucket of water.

“What?”

Nursey’s face is unreadable. “Haven’t we?”

“When,” Dex says. His heart is going so fast.

“I don’t know,” Nursey says with a shrug. “But that thing you did with your tongue? I remember you doing that. It’s, um. Memorable.”

“I think I’d remember,” Dex starts, but stops at the way the memory dawns over Nursey’s face.

Nursey falls out of bed.

“Holy fuck, Nurse.”

“No, holy fuck, Poindexter,” Nursey says, and it’s outrageous that he should be this hot ass naked on the floor and most of the way to accusing. “Blaine Maine? Are you really — and you _knew,_ you knew we’d done this the whole time.”

Dex stretches a hand for him but Nursey backs up, shaking his head. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” Dex says desperately. “Nursey, you have to believe me, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just—”

“I can’t believe I was hung up on you twice,” Nursey says slowly. “Dex. Blaine. This stupid part of me thought I could mean something to you, that first time. But that was just — what, a one night stand? And now we’re doing it again; at least tell me when you’re playing with me babe, I can play this game fine. I’m good at it. I just thought — it wouldn’t be like this with you.”

Dex slides on the floor and spreads his hands out wide. “That was before my manager destroyed my life,” he says. “Like, right before. I got caught up in the legal drama and the court hearings and all of it, and then you walked into the locker room. I didn’t ghost you on purpose, Nurse, I still have your number on that napkin in my desk at home.”

“Why didn’t you just _tell_ me?”

Nursey doesn’t look at him when he says it. Dex wishes he would; he just needs to know what he’s thinking. If there’s a way to save this.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to,” he says. “And no one outside my family knows who I am, or — Chowder saw me with the wig on a few weeks ago. But then practices started, and you hated me, and there was never an actual good time.” Nursey still isn’t looking at him. “At best you’d chirp me half to death. At worst? You’d never look at me again. Or you’d tell everyone, and—”

“I only told C,” Nursey says, and then his face falls. “Fuck. Chowder knew we fucked before I did?”

Dex hadn’t thought it would be this devastating to learn it was him. All these months when he’d imagined the worst case scenario, he hadn’t thought it would actually happen. 

“I’m sorry,” Dex says quietly. 

Nursey looks up at him now, incredulous. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

“I don’t know,” Dex says haltingly, “what else to say so you won’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.” Nursey’s gaze slopes down Dex’s body and then climbs back up. Dex flushes in every place his gaze touches. “I think you’re very talented. At, um. Many things. But you lied to me about something important, and I just — I need a minute, okay?”

This is kinder than he’d expected. “Of course,” Dex says. “Take whatever you need.”

He picks at his nail beds while Nursey thinks, angling his body half away so Nursey can take his space. Now and then Nursey asks him a question — _is your legal team hot? So you wear a wig then? You still like it when people give you hickeys?_ — and lapses back into silence after Dex answers, seemingly thinking hard. 

Finally he asks, “What am I to you?”

Dex has too many answers. He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean like,” Nursey says, gesturing toward his crotch. “We’ve done this twice, and we hated each other for a bit but don’t anymore, and we’re teammates who live together. What am I to you? Which of those things is the biggest to you?”

Dex pulls his gaze away from Nursey’s dick and when they land on Nursey’s face, Nursey’s smirking a little. “I don’t know,” he says. “Or, I mean — all of it. You’re all of it to me. And we do play well together. I don’t want to mess any of this up.”

“Me neither,” Nursey says. His smirk turns into something more open. “All those times I was bugging you about Annie’s, I was trying to ask you out.”

“Really?” Dex’s voice is a whisper.

“Really,” Nursey says, nodding.

“Then maybe let’s start there,” Dex says slowly. Trying out the words. “Does that sound okay?”

“Yeah, Poindexter.” Nursey leans back, looking at him. There’s something careful and soft in his face. “That sounds great.”

____________

The trial drags on until spring semester, when his legal team manages to add slander allegations before the judge. In LA, Blaine Maine makes his first public appearance in almost two years as he walks out of the courtroom. The cameras go wild as he stops to answer some press questions, many of which center around where he’s been for the last sixteen months. 

“I’m in school actually,” Dex says into the microphone. Next to him, Nursey adjusts his collar. “On the prelaw track.”

He whispers, “Like we planned?” and Nursey whispers back, “If you still want to. I got your back, babe.”

“Prelaw!” a pap says. “Is that because—”

“Of everything that happened to me? Yeah.” Next to him, Nursey coughs to hide a laugh. Dex carefully, deliberately takes his hand. 

The camera shutters seem to explode at that. The press erupts with questions, pointing microphones at both of them with both hands, and Dex instinctively takes a step back. His bodyguard glares at the press. They don’t advance.

“There’s something I wanna say when it’s quiet,” Dex says, and immediately everyone shuts up. Wow. “This may be a shock to some of you, especially L’Oréal, but this hair? This is a wig. And I’m wearing a ton of makeup right now.”

He says, “I haven’t identified with this person in a year,” and pulls out a makeup remover wipe. The crowd gasps. He can only assume his freckles are at least partly on display.

“Part of this shift has been due to all the nonsense that just resolved today. Another, bigger part of it?” Dex laces his fingers with Nursey’s. “I went to school. I met Nursey. I played two seasons of competitive hockey. I found a new sound. And it just seems like time, after everything.”

Dex lets go of Nursey’s hand so he can start taking pins out of the wig. “I want to take advantage of this new start to reintroduce myself,” he says. “The real me.” He tucks the pins into his pocket and takes a deep breath. Nursey takes his hand again and squeezes.

“So hey. I’m William Poindexter. It’s really nice to finally meet you all,” Dex says, and he takes the wig off.

________________________

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> THIS WAS RIDICULOUS DSGFHGJKLK THANKS FOR READING IT. I had fun, I hope you had fun!!
> 
> pls talk w me about this in the comments or [come find me on tumblr :)](https://ivecarvedawoodenheart.tumblr.com/)


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